


The Canvas Isn't Blank

by aunt_zelda



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BDSM, Cock Rings, Community: pacificrimkink, M/M, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, Riding Crops, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Spanking, Tattoo Kink, Tattoos, but it's mostly a mugging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 10:46:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/pseuds/aunt_zelda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newton Geiszler wanders into the wrong part of town, gets rescued by a man with gold shoes, and ends up with his pants down and his wrists cuffed to the headboard.</p><p>For the Pacific Rim kink meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Canvas Isn't Blank

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt at the Pacific Rim Kink Meme:  
>  _Some random jerks are bothering Newt and pushing him around when Chau shows up out of fucking nowhere and beats them up. "Excuse me, that's mine." Then he throws Newt over his shoulder and carries him away to his conveniently-located nearby sex dungeon. (Newt approves of this turn of events greatly.)_  
>  http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/350.html?thread=338270#t338270
> 
> I took some liberties. Also I've seen the movie only once, and I can't remember what the kaiju on his arms are called, so I sorta wrote around describing his tattoos. Back tattoos are completely my idea for this fic, not based on any canon material.

It’s stupid, really. Newt took a wrong turn, and then another, and another, and ended up in a decidedly _not_ nice part of Hong Kong, and there’s a group of guys who’ve been following him since Wrong Turn #5 and they don’t look like they want to give him directions out of here. 

Newt tries to act all casual and lose them, and he thinks for a wild second he might have succeeded. Then he finds himself in a dead end of an alleyway with the thugs boxing him in, grinning mirthlessly and cracking their knuckles. 

Newt stays very, very still. One reaches forward, pulls at his jacket and takes out Newt’s cellphone. He toys with it dismissively, shrugs, and pockets it. 

Another man comes forward, seizing Newt in an arm-lock while the others start rummaging through his pockets. Newt hopes this is the worst of it, but one of the bigger men starts pawing at him and chuckling, his friends urging him on. Newt can’t understand the words themselves, but the intention is clear.

“Oh god …” Newt starts struggling but of course, it’s too late now, with the biggest man keeping him pinned and helpless while they start unzipping his pants. Newt tries to bite at one guy, and gets a punch in the gut and a few smacks in the face for his efforts. 

“Hey!”

The men stop, and turn. Newt can’t see over their heads, but he can see down between their legs. Which means he can see the gold shoes. 

It’s a bit of a blur after that. The thugs start fighting the newcomer, and falling to the ground, clutching broken noses and stab wounds, or just dropping into what Newt hopes is unconsciousness. The big guy lets go of Newt and rushes forward, only to end up dazed and slumped against the wall of the alleyway. 

Newt staggers, still winded from being punched in the stomach, and looks up to see Hannibal Chau glaring at him. 

“You fucking _idiot_.” he growls, and for a wild second Newt wonders if Hannibal only saved him to kill him personally. 

Then Hannibal _picks Newt up_ and _flings him over his shoulder_ like a freaking Viking dragging off a maiden or a sack of potatoes, and all Newt can think is “ _holy shit_.”

“My … phone …” Newt says weakly. 

Hannibal holds it up and waves it in the air. “This is a crap phone. No wonder they wanted more off of you. Carry better pickings when you go out asking to be mugged.”

“I wasn’t –” Newt shuts up as Hannibal shifts his grip slightly and Newt nearly falls onto the cobblestones. 

Newt stays quiet during the trip. It’s a little humiliating, being carried through the streets of Hong Kong by a guy in gold shoes, like a prize he just won at a carnival. It’s also – and Newt curses himself for this – kind of sexy. Hannibal just picked him up like it was nothing, and he’s carrying him around like it’s nothing, and he beat up all those guys like it was nothing and … where are they going now?

It’s not the Market, but there’s guards at the door who let them in without a second-glance and a secret doorway, so it must be one of Hannibal’s places. But there’s no goons inside, no Kaiju in jars, no production line of powder making and dissection. 

What there is, is a dark room with simple furniture, darkly painted walls, some sculptures and art scattered around that are probably loot from destroyed museums in coastal cities. 

Oh, and a really big bed. 

Newt is tossed onto this last feature of the room. He scrambles up onto his elbows, staring at Hannibal, who’s just … watching him. Looking at him like he looked at the Kaiju corpse. Hungry and already envisioning what he’s going to do, every step of the way.

“Um, thank you, for saving me?” Newt says, knowing it’s lame and not nearly enough. 

“The sentiment is appreciated,” Hannibal says, taking off his jacket and draping it over a nearby chair, “but a ‘thank you’ means jack shit in my world.”

Newt nods. “So … um … what do you –”

“You’re one of the smartest idiots I’ve ever met, kid.” Hannibal waves a hand around the room. “What do you think I want?”

Newt looks Hannibal dead in the eye and licks his lips. “I think you oughta show me.”

Hannibal makes a low noise in the back of his throat and smiles, predatory and approving. 

He stands in front of the bed, pulls Newt up by his shirt, and pushes his sleeve up. Hannibal examines the tattoos, then does the same with the other arm. 

Newt shows plenty of people his tattoos. When he rolls up his sleeves in the lab, anyone can see them. But here … this is somehow different. He feels exposed, naked, even though all he’s doing is letting Hannibal see his arms, stroke the skin of his sleeves. 

“How far do these go, I wonder?” Hannibal muses, a kind of purr in his voice that goes straight to Newt’s cock. “You inked all over, kid?”

“I guess you’ll find out,” Newt squirms. 

“Just ink, or you got metal too?” Hannibal slides his hand down under Newt’s shirt, pinching his nipples and teasing them. “Sometimes boys like you, they pierce themselves in all kinds of fun places.”

Newt is shocked at how just a little stimulation from Hannibal is rapidly turning him into a writhing ball of need. “N-n-no …” he gasps. There was a time he was considering it, though. Heard stories about how a Prince Albert could really heighten sex. But he can barely keep his side of the lab clean, much less risk a piece of metal in his dick.

“Pity. Those are fun to play with.” Hannibal pushes Newt back onto the bed, just a light touch is enough to send him sprawling onto his back. “But you’ll be fun to play with too. Can’t wait to use some of my favorite toys.” He chuckles to himself and Newt gulps.

Hannibal stretches Newt out across the bed, drags his arms above his head and rests them against the headboard. “You got a safeword?”

Newt blinks, startled. “I … need one?”

“With what I’m planning to do with you, yeah, you need one. I’m not stopping every time you yell ‘no’ when what you actually mean ‘fuck me harder.’”

Newt gulps at the imagines _that_ inspires. “Um … pineapple?” 

Hannibal blinks, snorts, and nods. “Ok, fair enough. How are you with being tied up?”

Newt gets a wicked glint in his eyes and grins. “Oh no, please, not bondage! My one weakness!” he shifts from side to side in what he hopes is a suggestive manner. 

“Watch the sass, kid,” Hannibal takes out a pair of padded cuffs and secures Newt’s wrists to the headboard. 

“Or what, you’ll spank me?” Newt’s grin only widens.

Hannibal matches his grin. “Turn over.”

Newt does, the chain of the cuffs long enough that twisting around isn’t too awkward. 

He jumps a little when Hannibal yanks his pants down. Newt wasn’t expecting that right away, and yeah, even that makes his dick harder. This is getting embarrassing, he’s going to come way too soon at this rate. 

Hannibal sucks in a breath, and Newt remembers. Right. For all Hannibal knew, Newt was just joking about being possibly inked all over. Well, there is some bare skin. Some. The scene of a Jaeger battling a Kaiju takes up most of his back, one foot of the Jaeger ending just at the small of Newt’s back, and the Kaiju’s flank and tail curling down across his ass, the tail wrapping around Newt’s leg until the knee or so. It took hours to complete and was incredibly painful, especially the spots along the spine, but it was _so worth it_.

Hannibal pushes up Newt’s shirt, to see the full piece. It’s colorful, detailed, and is more Eastern-styled than Western in its design. 

“So, you can handle pain.”

Newt blinks. Well, yeah, that’s true. Not many people could sit through that much tattooing, that much coloring and shading on their skin. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Hannibal’s hand comes down, hard, against Newt’s ass. 

Newt yelps in shock, then steadies himself. Oh yeah, he can take this, he can totally – 

_SMACK._

… ok, maybe that hurt a little. 

After the seventh time, Newt whimpers. His skin is burning and his face is red and his cock is so hard, dripping precome and so _neglected_ by Hannibal and Newt’s own hands can’t reach that far back, chained as they are. 

On the tenth, Hannibal’s hand lingers, fingers sliding down the cleft of Newt’s ass.

Newt eagerly leans back into the touch, praying for something, anything … 

“Not so fast, kid,” Hannibal laughs, withdrawing his hand and getting up off of the bed.

… ok, not _that_.

Newt moans at the loss, squirms, feeling ridiculous and desperate and wishing Hannibal would just get back here _now_ and finish what he started, goddammit. 

“Calm down, kid. Christ, you’re impatient. I’ll have to do something about that.”

He returns, setting things on the bed that Newt can’t see, but can hear. Newt tenses, not sure which of Hannibal’s toys he’ll be introduced to first.

The first he really should have seen coming. It’s a cock ring. Hannibal snaps it on, and thankfully it’s the kind with a latch because Newt tried one a long time ago that wouldn’t come off easily and it scared him off the damn things for years. 

“Oh god, oh please, no, no, no, fuck … _fuck_ , I can’t, I need …” Newt is babbling, and thankful that Hannibal made him chose a safeword because he’s sounds like he’s begging for his life now and even so, he doesn’t want this to stop for one second. 

“What do you need?” Hannibal growls, breath in Newt’s ear, and puts his hand on Newt’s cock and presses his body against Newt’s back and Newt can feel Hannibal’s erection and he feels big, so big, oh god will he even be able to fit, he needs to, Newt needs, he needs … 

“I need you,” Newt gasps, voice cracking. “I need you, I need you in me, I need you to fuck me, I need you to let me come, please, please, let me …” he makes a strangled sort of wailing sound as Hannibal runs a finger along his cock. 

“I’m impressed by your eloquence,” Hannibal chuckles. “But you have to earn that right. I took down, what, six guys for you? Seven? All because you were stupid enough to get lost in my world. You gotta make it up to me, kid,” something snaps through the air and lands on Newt’s flank with sting. It takes him until the second strike to realize what it is: a riding crop. 

“You haven’t left me with much space, kid. I wouldn’t want to damage any of this art, that’d be a damn shame. So, I’ll take –” the crop strikes the part of Newt’s ass that isn’t tattooed with a Kaiju tail and leg “– what I –” it strikes a bare section on the back of Newt’s leg “ – can get.” 

Newt is panting for breath and can’t stop crying out and begging. He hopes that the walls are soundproofed, then remembers that this is _Hannibal Chau_ , anyone overhearing what’s going on in here will think he’s killing someone. Or the guards at the door know Hannibal likes it rough and doesn’t want to be interrupted. 

Hannibal slips a finger into Newt, mercifully slick with lube, and Newt tries to stay still, honestly, but he can’t help but arch up a bit and bite his lip.

“So tight … I need to stretch you open before I let you feel my cock.”

Newt can’t stop himself. “ _Please_! Please, I can take it, I can –”

Hannibal slaps his ass, more playfully than his earlier strikes, but Newt’s skin is sore. “Not yet, you can’t. I don’t want to tear you apart, kid, I want to fuck you until you can’t remember your name. There’s a difference.”

Newt nods, shaking slightly. 

Hannibal uses a variety of toys, each gradually larger, all the while coaxing Newt, telling him how good he’s being, taking so much, relaxing so well. Newt tries to relax, bides his time, wills his cock to stop throbbing so painfully. Hannibal pulls off Newt’s pants during this, even takes off the cuffs briefly so he can take Newt’s jacket and shirt away as well. Now he can see all the tattoos, the full one on Newt’s belly and chest, the designs on his thighs and shins, the tiny Kaiju face on his left foot. 

“Gorgeous,” Hannibal murmurs, running his hands along them while Newt struggles to keep the vibrating plug inside of him.

Finally, after what seems like hours, Newt hears the sound of a condom being unwrapped, and feels the slick head of Hannibal’s cock against him. 

“You ready?”

“God yes,” Newt pants. 

Hannibal eases in, tortuously slow, but some part of Newt’s brain registers that as a good thing. Hannibal’s toys stretched Newt out pretty well, but his dick is still massive, bigger than any Newt’s ever taken, and going too fast would be … unpleasant. 

“Christ, you’re tight, even after all that,” Hannibal groans. “Let me know if I’m going too fast.”

Newt can’t imagine that, but then Hannibal starts thrusting and _ohgodfuckyes_ and while he doesn’t forget his name (or the safeword) Newt forgets pretty much everything else. Hannibal’s cock hits his prostate, and Newt’s cock is practically screaming at this point. Or maybe Newt is screaming. Whatever, it’s all amazing. 

Newt is surprised when Hannibal withdraws before coming. He thinks it’s about the condom, to prevent any spilling, but Hannibal flips him over and tosses the condom away, jerking off over Newt’s chest. Newt barely has time to blink before his chest and belly are splattered. 

Hannibal grins, all teeth, and gently removes Newt’s cock ring. “Your turn, you more than earned it,” he slumps down on the bed beside Newt and bites the skin where his neck and shoulder meet, just above the top of his back tattoo. He strokes Newt once, twice, three times … Newt comes with a moan and sees stars. 

Newt’s head is fuzzy as he lays on the bed, dimly aware of Hannibal releasing him from the cuffs and massaging his arms in case of circulation issues. 

“You did well, kid,” Hannibal says, running his fingers through Newt’s sweaty hair. 

“Thank you …” Newt says.

“What did I –”

“It means something to me,” Newt’s tone is a little forceful now, despite his lethargy. “So … thank you. For … everything.”

Hannibal snorts, but says nothing. He does, however, tug Newt close. “I’m going to sleep now. I suggest you stay.”

“And if I don’t?” Newt asks.

“My guards upstairs will think you were an assassin sent to seduce and kill me, and they’ll deal with you accordingly.” Hannibal yawns. “Sleep, kid, you need it too.”

Newt does, and besides, he doesn’t want to be mistaken for an assassin. He isn’t sure what the morning will bring, or if there’s anything of a future in whatever just happened. But he doesn’t regret it. So he falls asleep in a crime lord’s arms, sticky with fluids that aren’t from a Kaiju, and is thankful that there are at least a few patches of his skin that he hasn’t gotten tattooed yet.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was my first fic posted to Ao3, I hope the formatting went ok and it was, you know, enjoyable to at least a few people. More fics to come in the future: I am in many, many fandoms.  
> Comments are love, kudos are cool, constructive crit is appreciated.


End file.
